A Little Rust and Dust... It's Roadtrippin', Right?

Rehan Nana flipped me the pheasant as I pulled into the gas station on the outskirts of town.  He sat with a wry grin on his face.  I was two minutes early.  7:13 am on the nose.  We were meeting a couple hours west of the Twin Cities for a fall ringneck hunt.  Rehan had along his buddy Bruce for the hunt.   Huh?  I'd never met Bruce.  All I saw were Rehan and buddy Derek Harwood sitting in Rehan's old Toyota.  Bruce?  Only later would I find out the name represented Rehan's favorite hunting buddy. His Toyota Land Cruiser.   A well-loved FJ60 with 193,000 rough and tumble miles.  Half the guts of the thing had been either sawed, duct taped, dropped or replaced   Exactly why Bruce makes the perfect hunting truck.   As Rehan says, " The name reminds me of an old northwoods uncle who farts, says incredibly inappropriate things, is generally hungover/still drunk, but somehow you know he can fix anything, gets his work done, has seen just about everything and has enough grit to get through anything." 

Rehan Nana And His Buddy Bruce...

Six of us hooked up at the gas station and caravaned west, out of the greater Montevideo metropolitan area.  We headed for a quiet piece of public hunting property our other two hunting buddies had dug up.  Andrew Vavra and Brian Essling had seen birds there a week earlier.   I figured this was the perfect fall tv hunt, documenting what I call the "Under 30 Club".  Think the next generation of Pheasants Forever members.  The guys who will, no doubt, someday write the checks.

Headed To The Field...

Flocks of fall honkers surrounded the walk-in area we hunted.  The first half of the day we flushed up very few pheasants.  In fact, two hens to be exact.  Pretty frustrating for the crew consider we could see dozens of roosters just across the dirt road, lounging in cattails on  private property.  It seems our honey hole had been hunted just one too many times...

Interviewing Andrew Vavra

After lunch behind the wheel, we stopped another forty miles up the road to hunt a couple of spots Derek suggested.   In an hour,  Andrew managed to drop the only two roosters we saw.  His dog flushed 'em both.   Just before sunset,  we added a third bird to our harvest.   This is how many young hunters scratch their itch.   Long roadtrips to small out-of-the-way spaces where at least a few wild pheasants hide and the hunt doesn't break the bank.  Classic public hunting...

Our Harvest...

After a few high-fives, I jumped into my truck to head further West for a few days of South Dakota hunting.    I chuckled as I did the math.  Each of the guys on the shoot qualified for the "Under 30 Club", even Bruce, but JUST barely.   Being a 1983 Toyota,  I called him a late-year model and called it good. Bruce,  a hunting truck full of dust and a little rust.  Who cares?  It's hunting, right?

Thanks to Derek for the very cool shots of our Friday hunting trip!